


Changes

by rusalka (marinarusalka)



Category: Avengers (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1629839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marinarusalka/pseuds/rusalka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly turning into a woman is actually the least surprising thing Steve has to deal with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Cakes

 

 

The whole thing happened by accident, really. They were trashing an AIM base, business as usual, when Luke tossed one of their goons head-first into some sort of alien-looking contraption that the AIM scientists had set up at the back of the lab. The goon smacked into the side of the machine and collapsed, pulling a lever down with his weight as he went. The machine shuddered, squeaked, and--

"Cap, look out!"

Spider-Man's yell came about half a second too late. The crackling blue energy ray caught Steve right in the middle of this back, blasting him through a wall into the corridor beyond.

It took another minute or so to put down the remaining goons, so by the time they all made it out into the corridor, Steve was climbing out from under the rubble. His head was ringing and his mouth was full of plaster dust, but other than that he felt all right, except for--

"Cap," Peter said in a voice that was slightly squeakier than usual, "why do you have breasts?"

"Huh?" Steve looked down at himself. "Oh. I _thought_ something felt weird."

"Steve!" Iron Man came barreling in from outside, where he'd been rounding up the escaping AIM scientists in their mini hovercars. "Are you all right? I heard you yell through the communicator, and--" He broke off abruptly. The helmet made it impossible to read his facial expression, but everything about his posture radiated utter shock.

"I'm fine," Steve said. "I just appear to be kind of... female."

Spider-Man's mask totally failed to hide his snicker.

* * *

"We could call you Stephanie," Peter said. "Or Stella. Or Stevie. Or, uhm, Stevena. That's a name, right?"

"I am not changing my name," Steve said through gritted teeth. "We'll figure out how to fix this. And even if we don't..." _We will. We have to._ "My name is still Steve. It has always been Steve. It will continue to be Steve for the foreseeable future."

"Okay, okay." Peter took a step back, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "I was just trying to be helpful."

They were in Tony's lab in Avengers Tower, trying to figure out their next move. Tony had scanned Steve from head to toe with lasers and X-rays and three different kinds of DNA scanner and a number of other things Steve didn't even know the names of, but all he had to say after the scans were done was "Yep, you're a woman, all right," which Steve had figured out perfectly well for himself, thank you. Now Tony was disassembling the AIM machine, sipping coffee from a thermos flask as he laid the pieces out in a neat grid on the floor while Steve and Peter watched from the sidelines.

Steve could see his reflection in the gleaming metal door that separated the lab from the high-security area where Tony worked on the armor. The weird thing was, he didn't even look all that different from the neck up. His face was a bit narrower and more rounded in the jaw, and his Adam's apple was gone, but it was still recognizably him. Below the neck, however...

He was still the same height as before, and almost as solidly muscled, but his body mass had definitely been redistributed in a dramatic and uncomfortable way. For one thing, a disturbingly large amount of it was now at the front of his torso.

"I can't see my feet," Steve said plaintively.

"Your feet are fine," Peter assured him, which really wasn't the point.

"I'm going to need clothes." He was still wearing his Captain America uniform, which really didn't fit anymore. The pants were too large in the waist and too small in the hips, and the shirt just didn't fit _anywhere_ anymore. Also, wearing a mail shirt over bare breasts was turning out to be remarkably uncomfortable. The padded lining had always been sufficient in the past, but clearly women superheroes had costuming issues Steve had never before considered. "I think," he said thoughtfully, "I'm going to need a bra."

It was almost worth it, just to see Tony do a coffee spit-take all over his workbench.

* * *

Buying a bra, Steve discovered, was nowhere near as simple as just walking into the nearest department store and picking one up. Five minutes after getting out of Tony's lab, Steve found himself standing topless (and hopelessly mortified) in the Parkers' bedroom, while Mary Jane looped a measuring tape first around his breasts, then under them.

"Apparently," she said dryly as she jotted down his measurements, "the US military's idea of the pinnacle of human perfection is a triple-D cup. Pigs."

"I don't think that was included in the specs," Steve said. "I doubt anyone ever even considered what effect the Super Soldier serum might have on a woman."

"Right." Mary Jane rolled her eyes. "Like I said, pigs. Go on and get dressed now, and I'll take you shopping."

Neither Mary Jane nor either of the Jessicas had clothes to fit him, so Steve ended up going out in the clothes he usually wore jogging: sweatpants, a baggy t-shirt and running shoes. The shoes were much too wide on him, and the t-shirt felt as ill-fitting as the uniform shirt had, but at least everything was decently covered. Mary Jane, Steve decided, was gong to have to be glamorous enough for both of them.

He was expecting a trip to Macy's or something along those lines, but Mary Jane had ideas of her own, and those ideas apparently involved a small boutique in the West Village. The window display made Steve's face burn, but Mary Jane assured him that it was only to "lure in the tourists."

The sales assistants all greeted Mary Jane by name, with much hugging and squealing. They also seemed unfazed by being asked to outfit a six-foot-two muscle-bound Amazon who didn't own any underwear. Steve was prepared to just buy the first few things he was handed, but Mary Jane insisted that he must try everything on. Steve reminded himself that he was Captain America, that he'd faced down Nazis, aliens and supervillains on a regular basis, and that no one in the shop was likely to actually kill him.

"Where's the fitting room?" he asked grimly, and went to meet his fate.

* * *

Two hours later he was back in his room at the tower, feeling deeply exhausted but much better-supported. Mary Jane had wanted to take him shopping for regular clothes, but he had refused. He'd had enough excitement for the day.

He sat cross-legged on top of his bed and pulled the shield into his lap. He wondered how much practice he'd need to learn how to wield it properly again. He felt awkward and unbalanced in a way he hadn't felt since early puberty. His center of gravity had shifted, his body mass was distributed in a new and unfamiliar way, his speed and reflexes were probably affected in ways he didn't even know yet. He had to believe that the change wasn't permanent, but he had no idea how long it would take Tony to reverse it. Until then, if he meant to continue as an Avenger -- and he damn well did -- he had to learn how to fight in this new body. He'd take a few hours in the training room tomorrow, maybe get somebody to spar with him...

"Steve?" Tony's voice was accompanied by a sharp tap on the door. "Are you decent in there?"

"Come in," Steve called out, and Tony shouldered his way through the door, gripping a bulky paper-wrapped package in his arms.

"Here." He dropped the package on top of the shield in Steve's lap. "Have some clothes."

Steve peeled the paper aside to reveal three pairs of jeans and an assortment of fitted t-shirts and button-down shirts. As far as he could tell, everything looked as if it might fit him.

"Where'd you get these?"

Tony looked smug. "I called She-hulk and asked her where she shopped in New York. Then I called the store, gave them the measurements I got from your scans, and told them to send over everything suitable they had in your size. Peter suggested some mini-skirts and halter tops, but I decided I'd let you pick those out yourself." He smirked as he picked up a plain gray t-shirt and turned it from side to side. "I have to say, these are the most boring clothes I've ever had the pleasure of buying for a gorgeous woman. Maybe I should-- oh hell." He frowned and put the t-shirt down abruptly. "Shoes. I totally forgot about shoes. I'm sorry, I'll call them back right away and see if they--"

"Tony." Steve grasped Tony's wrist and gave it a slight shake. "Relax. Shoes can wait, I'm not going out again today. And these clothes are great. Thank you."

"Don't thank me until you've tried them on," Tony said. "Oh, and in case you were wondering, that AIM ray that got you is some sort of DNA resequencer. From what I can see, the effect should be completely reversible, but I'll need a biologist to help me reprogam it. I've forwarded the specs to Hank Pym. Between the two of us, we'll have you back to your manly self in no time."

"That's great." Steve found himself smiling properly for the first time that day. "I knew you could do it."

"Haven't done it yet," Tony pointed out. "But I wouldn't get too used to these new clothes if I were you.

* * *

By some rare and amazing stroke of luck, the city's supervillains all collectively decided to take the next few days off, which meant Steve had a proper block of time to devote to training. It took him a solid morning of non-stop practice before he was comfortable with throwing the shield again, and most of an afternoon to relearn the balance on his kicks. 

He sparred with Jessica and Carol, and with Tony when he could manage to drag him out of the lab. He would've liked to spar with Luke or Peter too, but they had both developed such a pronounced tendency to become tongue-tied and shifty-eyed in his presence, that he decided not to ask them.

In fact, Luke and Peter's changed manner toward him made Steve appreciate Tony all the more. Tony still acted relaxed and comfortable around him. He didn't pull his blows when they sparred, and he always looked Steve straight in the face when they talked. Sure, he cracked an occasional joke that made Steve blushed, but that in itself was a sign of how relaxed he was about the whole weird situation. 

"I wish the others could be more like you," he complained to Tony in the lab one night. It was nearly three in the morning. He'd gone down to tell Tony to stop futzing around and get some sleep, and somehow ended up sitting on top of a work table, spilling out his troubles while Tony hovered over a circuit board with a soldering iron. "I don't get it. They're both married men. They should know how to behave themselves around a woman."

"But you're not a woman," Tony pointed out. "Not really, anyhow. You're still you." He lifted his safety goggles for just long enough to give Steve a leer and a wink. "Only now you're you with a really great rack."

"Which they can't stop staring at! It's ridiculous. They're my _teammates_. They _know_ me."

"Maybe that's the problem," Tony said. "They know you. They're used to being all buddy-buddy with you. Now they suddenly find you hot. It's weirding them out."

"Huh." Steve pondered that for a moment. "So you're saying, the reason you can retain higher brain function around me is that you don't find me hot?"

"Oh, sure I do," Tony said lightly, "I'm just used to it."

"You're--" Steve choked a little, not sure what exactly he was trying to say next. "You're what?"

"Shit, I didn't say that aloud, did I?" Tony seemed to be talking to the soldering iron in his hand. "Please tell me I didn't say that aloud."

"You did." Steve hopped down from the table, plucked the iron from Tony's hand, turned it off and set it aside. "Now tell me what you meant by it."

"You know perfectly well what I meant by it." Tony wouldn't meet Steve's eyes. "Come on, Steve, don't tell me you didn't know I liked men."

"Of course I knew." Steve rolled his eyes in exasperation. "But I'm not conceited enough to think that everyone who's attracted to men is going to be attracted to me."

"You've got to be kidding me." Tony finally turned to look at him, only it wasn't so much looking as staring in open-mouthed astonishment. "You're Captain goddamn America. Anything with a pulse is attracted to you."

"Don't be ridiculous. And don't change the subject."

"I'm not. I'm just saying it like it is."

"You--" Steve ran one shaky hand through his hair, trying to process this sudden new information. He felt as if he'd been smacked in the face with his own shield. "You've done a damn good job of hiding it all these years."

Tony shrugged, stiff and uncharacteristically awkward in his movements. "I didn't want to make things awkward between us."

"Didn't want to make things _awkward_? >

"Yeah. Like this. You're angry with me now."

"I'm not angry with you."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm-- well, maybe a little. But really." Steve shook his head in amused disbelief. "All this time I've been keeping my mouth shut because I thought you weren't interested, and now you're saying I could've said something at any time? That's... damn. Now I feel stupid."

"Wait." Tony's eyes went wide. "Hold on. You wanted to say something? Since when?"

"Since years ago. Since..." Steve paused to think about it. "A few weeks after you took me out of the ice, I guess. We were spending so much time together, and you were always there when I needed someone, and..." he trailed off again, searching for the right words. "I just started to think about it, that's all. But you really did seem uninterested, and you always had all these women around, and I thought, maybe I'd better just not say anything."

"You could say something now," Tony breathed.

Steve started to raise one hand to Tony's face, then abruptly stopped. It was the sight of his own hand, in fact, that brought him up short -- the unfamiliar size and shape of it.

"Maybe now is not a good time," he said.

"Not a good time?" Tony blinked. "What's wrong with it?"

"Well." Steve shifted his feet a little, feeling shaky and awkward. "I'm not exactly myself right now."

"Yes you are. You're most definitely you. Trust me, I sparred with you this morning, and when you landed that roundhouse kick on my kidney? That was about as you as it gets."

"Sorry," Steve said automatically. "Is it badly bruised?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, that's totally beside the point." Tony took a step forward and put his hands on Steve's shoulders. His palms felt very warm through the thin cotton of Steve's t-shirt. "The point being, you're Steve Rogers. Captain America. And we've already established that I want you no matter what body you're in."

"If we just wait until I turn back--"

"Steve." Tony closed his eyes for a moment, shook his head, then looked up at Steve again. "We just found out that we've wasted all this time because we were both too stupid to just let on that we're interested. Do you really want to waste even more? What if there's an apocalypse tomorrow? There seems to be one every other week these days."

He had a point. He also had amazingly blue eyes. And warm hands. There was only a few inches of space between them now, so Steve leaned forward a little, and suddenly his chest was pressed against Tony's. Which was kind of squishy and uncomfortable for a moment, but only for a moment, because then Tony was kissing him and damn, that felt good.

He gripped Tony's arms just above the elbows and swung him sideways, slammed Tony's back against the wall next to the soldering table, kissed him back until they were both dizzy and breathless.

"Whoa," Tony gasped when they finally came up for air, "yeah, you're Steve Rogers, all right. Kiss me again."

So Steve did.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Steve asked for about the hundredth time.

"Yes," Tony sighed for the hundredth time. "Hank and I have gone over the code line by line. It's perfect. It will work. It will turn you into a guy again."

"Okay." Steve sighed and wiped his hands on his sweatpants. "Good."

"Either that, or turn you into a frog."

"Tony!"

"Kidding." Tony adjusted a couple of dials on the restored, reprogrammed AIM DNA resequencer, and gave Steve a grin and a thumbs up. "It's ready. Go stand on the X."

Steve tried not to fidget as he planted his feet on either side of the masking-tape cross Tony had placed on the floor. It wasn't Tony and Hank's technical expertise he was worried about, really. It was about... well, everything else.

He'd been living in a female body for two weeks now, and while he couldn't exactly say he was _used_ to it, he had grown a lot more comfortable in it. He'd even fought some Doombots in Central Park three days before, alongside the rest of the team, and done perfectly well at it. More to the point, a significant portion of those two weeks had been spent in Tony's bed, and that had been... amazingly good. And now it was going to change.

Not for him, of course. Steve knew perfectly well that his feelings for Tony weren't going to change just because he was back to his normal physical self. But Tony... Tony _said_ he didn't care what body Steve was in, and yet he'd never expressed any interest until Steve was a woman. Steve found it difficult not to worry about that, at least a little.

"Ready?" Tony called out.

Steve stood up straight and clasped his hands behind his back. "Ready."

Tony must've recalibrated the ray somehow, because this one didn't blast Steve through a wall. In fact, there was hardly any physical sensation at all, just a moment of strong dizziness. Steve's vision spun and blurred, and when it cleared, he was lying flat on his back on the floor, though he didn't remember falling.

"Steve?" Tony was bending over him, blue eyes wide with concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Steve said. It took him a moment to realize that his voice came out sounding an octave deeper. 

He sat up and, oh yeah, _now_ his center of gravity was in the right place. His hands looked like his hands, his face felt like his face. Steve climbed to his feet and turned to face Tony, feeling simultaneously more himself and less _sure_ of himself than he had in two weeks.

"So--" he began, but before he could even decide how he wanted to complete that question, Tony was in his arms, kissing him.

"Damn," Tony said after a while. "I've been waiting and waiting to find out what that would feel like."

"And?" Steve raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

Tony grinned and buried his fingers in Steve's hair.

"Kiss me again," he said.

So Steve did.

 


End file.
